A Happy Little Party
by NovemberBlues
Summary: You are on an expedition into ancient ruins. Everything found is a secret revealed about the mysterious world of Remnant, which the Kingdoms are determined to discover. For knowledge is power. As your team of archaeologists scours and catalogs everything found, you find a diary. It details the experience of another team just like yours. So begins your adventure.


First Day in the Ruins.

A sunny day in the ruins, of another Kingdom lost to time. Wary, yet excited, the archaeologist heart within beats strong. The Hunter teams with us, assures the Grimm had been exterminated. Undoubtedly safe, both in the knowledge of their skills and experience you explore. These ruins are old, predating the fall of the Clymenite Kingdom. Predating the oldest known Ancient Kingdom by a mile must mean more clues to the secret past of Human-and-Faunus kind. And so the simple routine of searching and cataloging begins. Thankfully it is midday, the sun shines high above and the ruins are built to let it in. Your work has you in the central plaza, the Forum, center of the City. The beating heart of what once breathed, gasped, and breathed with life. The City was beautiful, bleach white, yet glowing in the sunlight.

The mission was all quite ordinary really. Just another routine exploratory mission falling into methodical procedure.

In the Forum there is a diary that lies open on the floor, you pick it up to read. It is in an old language, ancient Mistrali. Beyond ancient actually, but the language has changed little over the course of eons. A thankful boon to all interested in the past.

With an open mind and an open heart, you begin deciphering the ancient text - mindful of its age.

* * *

 _Ides of the most august month, March. 1921 years after the Sundering._

 _In the World there is one constant throughout all of history. Through every war, every memory, every fragment of civilization, there has always been Grimm. As sure and as persistent as the passage of time. Always just beyond the walls of the city, my home._

 _Watching. Waiting._

 _Always._

 _It is theorized that the Grimm are as old as Humanity, only having come to be when the first of our kind walked the land. The first antagonists, the first great threat to our existence. Nothing greater could have preceded them, else we would be dead. We would have been naught more than a footnote in history._

 _Or so we thought._

 _It is at these very ruins that a mystery is revealed. Someone older than us!_

 _Clearly they were intelligent, civilized, and cultured, as evidenced by this city. The design efficient, and with their equivalent of a Forum too, how convenient._

 _It had never occurred to us, that perhaps, there were civilizations before us. Until now that is._

 _The first instance of intelligent life before Humanity._

 _How exciting!_

 _I never thought I would be so fortunate to be among the first to find such an important landmark in our history. With this finding Morgianne, Jeans, Clay, and I have made indelible mark upon history._

* * *

Second Day in the Ruins.

The work goes on. The familiar process done countless times. Back breaking and mentally exhausting made routine, a ritual of you would say.

As the midday sun rises, the archaeological team gathers for lunch. A simple fare, stew in the Forum's central circle. Made of meat, vegetables, and other things to be found within the forest. It was lucky to find the central fire pit well preserved after so long. Less time spent digging to prepare for making food, meant more time making said food. Which of course meant taking less time off work and running behind schedule, breaking the work ritual your team so carefully created. What folly!

Ritual is important. Routine is important. So far away from the Kingdom's walls, knowingly surrounded by Grimm, all away-teams need something to ground them. A simple procedure was all it took, especially to keep their minds from wandering, to thoughts dark and dreams foreboding.

It was what kept the Kingdoms alive, and it is what keeps the team, and you, alive.

Returning to the meal, and away from those dark thoughts, you notice how much more lively the square has been. Ever since setting up shop and getting to work, the Forum has become a center of the expedition. Even the Hunters come to take breaks here!

Yes, you think. The place is slowly, but surely, coming alive. As it once was.

More Academics and Hunters will join this evening. It would be wonderful to see the Forum full of people again. To see the Heart of this Ancient City beat once more.

Speaking of routines and life in this city, you turn your attention back to the diary you found. After having it cataloged, found it potentially has mission critical information, and getting permission to decipher the rest of this, might as well finish it. Right?

* * *

 _It was a little disappointing to find there were no ancient skeletons or fossils, but such is research. On the bright side, in the Principia across the avenue, Morgianne has found some religious e-texts, with pictures too!_

 _How these Ancients managed to build longevity into their electronic hardware, has already made the expedition worth the trouble._

 _While the texts were for the most part indecipherable, that is only for the moment. Clay has a theory that the language is related to a the Menageran Linguistic Family. The pictures however, are quite easy to "read"._

 _They detail someone in a mask. The mask itself must have some great significance as it stands in the centerfold and foreground of the image. It is a large bulbous head, two large arthropod-like eyes, and many fingers. It appears to be playing a musical instrument. All around it are wisps, gusts of air, and they seem to have faces. Many faces._

 _A visually disturbing image no doubt. But so are many images of death, which the team has theorized that is what it is about. They are much like us in away. Commissioning and creating works of art on death, designed to inspire emotion, as a form of expressing grief._

 _It's good to know they are not incomprehensible._

 _Alas time is short, and quotidian work will call upon me come morn. Like always, the regimen must be followed._

 _But we will celebrate on the last day of our venture. Morgianne's find was invaluable, and she deserves to be honored. Clay says she'll decipher it by next week with constant E-World Net connection._

Fifth Day in the Ruins

All proceeds on schedule.

The team has found the "Principia" the Diarist wrote down.

It was a treasure trove!

All along the walls, the ceilings, the floor everywhere, even the columns had works of art engraved into the stone. But, it seems they were not the original inhabitants. Not unexpected, old cities still provide safer harbors compared to the Grimm infested wilderness. In fact, it added to the overall value of the place. Here stands evidence that there were more than one culture, one people, living in these same lands. Thus, there is only more to uncover, more to gain with continued work, and more to reveal about the world we live in.

The centerpiece seems to depict something similar to the diarist description. A mask, large bulbous head, insect-like eyes, and fingers - so many fingers - playing a wind instrument of sorts. Unlike the description, it is leading a procession of sorts. A funeral caravan most likely. The picture would certainly suggest that. There are many in the procession, all in various states of ghastliness. The new inhabitants must have picked up the practices of the older ones.

The most haunting however, was a pale woman riding a skeletal horse. Clutched to her midriff was a little babe.

It occurs to you that the procession is arriving through an open gate, with no doors. The main gate if the upside down crescent mooned tower was any indication. Most importantly, with the moon whole and shining down upon them!

Fascinating. Further evidence that the moon was not always broken into the Greater and the Lesser Shards we know today.

Unfortunately, there was no advanced technology that the diarist's own archaeological team found. Just more engravings and text, with one bellow the centerpiece with text repeating from top to bottom.

By midnight, after the procedure of cataloging the Principia's art, text, and trinkets, you return to the campfire. A good day, something was discovered and the new arrivals knew what to do. It seems they too are familiar with the routine of expeditionary work.

By the warm fires, you turn your attention back to that fascinating diary.

Book and thermos in hand, in the most exciting discovery of the generation, isn't this the life?

* * *

 _Clay has had a breakthrough in deciphering the text, without having to spend a week on it too. We can now understand the words written within the various electronic books. Of particular interest to the team is an E-text which depicts a celebration through the Forum, by the living thankfully. The main gate is unbarred and open. The walls are unmanned, their fire unlit. Rather dangerous. And also a strange dichotomy, a technological schizophrenia. Perhaps it is, in fact, religious, or traditional to have such ancient low tech things. However, based on the fact that they are more advanced than us, and presumably have lived before the Age of Humanity and Grimm, it would be justified. Below the art, the text reads "Beware Ritual. Invited misfortune through with a simple Fair. This was before."_

 _Cryptic and rather unhelpful._

 _We know of no ritual. It must have been destroyed through the passage of time or deliberate act by the inhabitants. The message then would be redundant, or a back up in case records of this "Ritual" were not destroyed._

 _In any case, I will return to my ritual and get myself something to eat, brush my teeth, and go to bed._

* * *

Sixth Day in the Ruins

Yet more people have arrived. The Forum is thriving with life. The City's heart beats again!

Someone found something missing on the Main Gate's Left Tower, it was a Fire Dust Crystal. A beautiful pure red. It most likely belonged on top the Main Gate's upside down Crescent Moon. It must have fallen off. You had one of the Hunters help and put it right back where it belonged.

You can't help but smile. The days are filled with boring work routine, but the nights have become so much more lively. This must have been what it was like during the City's prime. Even better though, was that it was nearing the Whole Moon Celebration. A once in a Generation event, when Remnant and the Moon align just so, and it looks like the Moon was never shattered. It could be seen at its closest, and largest - looming overhead, stretching from the sky to the distant horizon.

It's practically magical.

Well with the way the world is, it might as well be!

So the team and the Hunters decided to have their own little celebration. A little something of home. In observance with the Celebration's Rites, we have elected Invictus Acier as the leader of the event. He decided we would in recognition of our works to "keep an open mind" and celebrate in a similar way as the inhabitants. Open the (make-shift) Gates and leave the walls fire crystal pyres unlit. The Hunters were a bit worried understandably, but Sir Acier said it would only be at a maximum of one minute. Three of the Hunters have speed Semblances, so it would simple to remedy the temporary vulnerability. Heck, even you have a Speed Semblance. It would even be done at Dinner time, which is around sunset, so there would still be daylight.

A good and reasonable plan overall.

As the day wound down, it was time to let habit takeover, and have your nightly rituals done and over with. The diary had an interesting part, more scratchy in comparison to the prim cursive writing. Staying up a little won't hurt, coffee could certainly help with that.

* * *

 _And then the last day was nearly upon us._

 _The preparation for Morgianne's celebration was going well, and we had deciphered more of the e-text. It detailed how celebrations went about within this City. We thought it fitting to include some aspects, such as the procession through to the Forum, and wearing masks, as a part of our festivities. We would even include someone to play a flute or the trumpet._

 _Later in the day, we had deciphered more about the text from before. The one about the Fair. It read:_

 _"Strange things now happen here._

 _Since the sky was sundered, and the sea set afire, the land had been beset by powers known only in imagination._

 _At first there was the_ _ **Light**_ _._

 _ **It**_ _shone from_ _ **within**_ _._

 _Those bestowed were impervious from all but the greatest assault._

 _And they showed no fear._

 _Then as_ _ **Light**_ _came to be, so to did the_ _ **Darkness**_ _._

 _ **Great Beasts**_ _formed from the pit of our_ _ **darkest dreams**_ _._

 _They knew no fear._

 _They wracked us all with near eternal battle._

 _And then came the_ _ **Wrath**_ _._

 _The power of the_ _ **World**_ _and_ _ **Beyond the Sky**_ _embodied in_ _ **Shards**_ _._

 _Undecipherable_

 _Some of those shards are located nearby. To the West, it's power only revealed by the dying sun. Only the brave and the foolish may enter._

 _To invite forces beyond comprehension._

 _Some though do not need a user._

 _Some need only Ritual._

 _It was from that moment, that we knew that Aura, Dust, and the Grimm predated us._

 _It seems we are not so special after all. At the very least, we now knew there were Dust deposits around here. With any luck those deposits will still exists in worthwhile amounts. Interestingly though, it mentioned again a "Ritual". The one thing this expedition has not found. Maybe we never will._

 _How sad. A piece of history remembered fleetingly, and only by a moniker instead of a proper name._

 _Near evening, I will write about the celebration. Something to take my mind off this depressing state. Returning to what is familiar should do some good for me. In the mean time, I think I'll watch the others make masks. Some are inspired by the art we have found. Morgianne will ride a mechahorse in a white dress, with a small doll to represent a child. Our symbol of Rebirth. She'd spend some time to make the getup more convincing. Make it look more like the real thing. She's a dedicated one she is. Always doing the job right, no matter what. No one would, or could, stop her._

 _I doubt time itself could stop her._

* * *

Seventh Day in the Ruins.

It is now Whole Moon Celebration! A day of festivities is upon you. The entire team has taken to dressing up with what material they have, rags and fake claws mostly. The Leader, Sir Invictus Acier, has chosen to wear a great pink hamster-like suit. It has small cute horns on its head, stubby little legs and arms. Overall, it is rather adorable. Truly a man secure in his station. Some of the team thought it a great idea to put him in a makeshift palanquin - just for fun.

The Forum is filled with laughter and cheer. The near sunset casting a beautiful glow upon the grounds.

It's a strange color though.

That must be because of the Whole Moon, or the Fire Crystal on the Main Gate, West of the Forum.

The Huntress that put the Crystal back seems to be laughing and dancing the hardest.

She's positively euphoric.

The festivities grow more lively. And more. And more. And more!

And all too soon it is a few minutes from sunset. The colors it casts are a beautiful mix of yellow, orange, red, and black. Rather warm calming actually.

Completely at odds the hysteria down below.

It doesn't stop them.

Taking a break from the festival frenzy, you duck into the Principia thermos in hand, and back to that fascinating diary.

Surely, the writers festivities went just as well.

* * *

 _An Open Mind is an open Fort. Gates unbarred, and walls unmanned._

 _It took be so long to realize._

 _It wasn't "Ritual" as in a ceremony. It was ritual, as in the synonym for procedure, routine, habit._

 _I'm writing this now and will leave this at the Forum, in hopes this does not repeat._

 _The festivities went on without a hitch. No end in sight._

 _And that's the problem._

 _No end in sight._

 _The day was normal at first, but then little odd things happened._

 _The sky's color changed a deep yellow and red._

 _The Dust deposit to the West, pure black, and both began to slightly glow._

 _The Moon came closer._

 _It came closer._

 _IT. The Moon. Came. Closer._

 _I didn't mind at first. No one minded at first._

 _But it was Sunset. Sunset._

 _The sun had yet to set._

 _And the Moon loomed large across the sky._

 _And night merged with day._

 _The Festivities became wilder. The dancing more feverish. The masked grew more inhuman._

 _They became more like what they wore._

 _But I still have time. Concentrated as they are on the festival._

 _Whoever is reading this, I write this now knowing my knowledge will help you in the future. I will retreat into the Principia, and bunker down there. There are others with me. We'll wait to warn the procession. Morgianne is with them, she'll know what to do. We've been drilled enough times on how to react to the unusual, in the event of something like this. But that was always in plan of some mind controlling Grimm. Not this. Never this._

 _Whatever is causing this is beyond imagination. Beyond_ _comprehension_ _._

 _I_ _will throw this onto the Forum's pavement. It should be the first thing anyone finds._

 _If the situation grows dire. . . we will engrave pictograms and messages within the Principia. As ominous looking as possible so no one can mistake it for anything less than a warning. On the center will be the main message._

* * *

That was very worrying. And as you look back on to the Whole Moon celebration, you cannot help but notice the similarities. Thankfully you are safe in the Principia. The engravings, scrawled on every surface, are far more sinister now.

The image at the center, takes on a new meaning.

A loud trumpet blares. Announcing the arrival of Sir Acier's arrival. The procession would now arrive.

It is now one minute from sunset.

And just as in the diary. The Moon, whole and unmarred, looms across the sky. Stretching down from above, to the distant horizon. Swallowing the entire Eastern sky.

From the West came the procession, and what a ghastly procession it is.

The people had now become what they wore: rags, hair and nails far too long. And Sir Acier, a hideous obese pink beast, riding upon his palanquin carried by yet more ragged men and women. A few armored in the what was once fake armor.

All led by the Thing in the Principia. Bulbous head, eyes too large, with too many fingers, playing an instrument.

Leading them all to the center of the city.

The gates, as promised, closed by the Hunters. Or more specifically, the Huntress that put the Crystal up. And the inhuman Fair began a new.

The sky turned a deep mix of yellow and red.

The land turned black.

And night merged with day.

Just like the diary.

Bellow the centerpiece, with the knowledge to translate the language you read:

 _An Open Mind is an open Fort. Gates unbarred, and walls unmanned._

 _Beware Ritual._

 _An Open Mind is an open Fort. Gates unbarred, and walls unmanned._

 _Beware Ritual._

 _An Open Mind is an open Fort. Gates unbarred, and walls unmanned._

 _Beware Ritual._

 _An Open Mind is an open Fort. Gates unbarred, and walls unmanned._

 _Beware Ritual._

 _An Open Mind is an open Fort. Gates unbarred, and walls unmanned._

 _Beware Ritual._

That was completely useless. In desperation you turn to the diary.

There were no more entries to help. So you threw it back into the Forum, closer to the Principia, hopefully someone would find it and decipher it, long before you.

For now, you had a job to do. Finding an empty space you set about the task of writing down the translation notes by hand, onto stone.

This must not repeat.

It must not reach the Kingdoms.

They will not reach home.

This. Will. Not. Reach. Home.

 _ **You swear it**_.

And as you toil away, a loud keening whine is heard from the East.

Below the Whole Moon rides a Pale Woman, atop a dead horse. She clutches to herself a little baby.

She, the horse, the baby, are all as large as the oldest of the forest's Trees.

And she looks upon the city. Eyes unseen.

But the baby's. . .

They begin to glow.

And the dead City is _**alive**_ again.

The bone bleached stone writhe with life. The landscape itself turns black. The horizon disappears. It seems as if the world has gone. And the City becomes, your world.

And the city closes itself from the World.

 _ **Great Beasts**_ , does not describe what you see.

They are NOT Grimm.

They are however, borne from the deepest, _**darkest**_ pit of nightmares.

The ones **never remembered**.

But you don't care.

You are _**Doctor**_ Bartholomew Oobleck.

Archaeologist Extraordinaire.

You did **not** get your PHD in an _empty_ ruin.

Facing cosmic horror is your _**job**_. Grimm or not.

Thermos in hand you faced true terror.

That which cannot be understood.

Not _yet_.

* * *

A/N: Acier is French for Steel.

This was done in the hopes of inspiring other writers to create crossovers of RWBY with other Cosmic Horror works. Dear readers you are more than likely familiar with Cosmic Horror works already, the most famous are: H.P. Lovecraft, Mthulhu Mythos, Bloodborne, they even include works of art like ones from Zdzisław Beksiński, or H.R. Giger.

Now RWBY, being RWBY, doesn't mean the crossover with Cosmic Horror must always end terribly, or be horrifying (RWBY itself is a Comic Horror Lite). Do what feels right, and hopefully realize just how well these two mesh with each other.

Good day to you,

Sincerely, NovemberBlues


End file.
